Page 32 of Kept By the Kraken

I push against his hand, seeking pressure. The roar of the wind from the rolled down windows matches the desire pounding in my veins. I squirm against him, loving how little he’s giving me, how that teasing caress makes me wet.

He pulls away and shifts, coming to a stop at a light in the center of town. It’s midday, the small village thick with people going about their Sunday errands. While we idle, he returns to teasing me. A car passes just as his finger pushes against the cotton and rubs my clit.

My legs fall open wider, stretching against the constraining corduroy of my skirt, and my chest rises against the band of the seatbelt. I want to pinch my nipples, let him fuck me on his fingers.

The light changes. I let out a little whine as he pulls his hand away to shift again. Bjorn chuckles, the dark sound a tug in my core.

All too soon, he’s pulling into a parking spot. He squeezes my thigh and gives me an amused smile. “Come on.”

I huff out a long breath, riled up and ready to scream with the desire to come. I want him to pull back out of the spot and drive out to the preserve while he makes me come on his fingers. And when we get back to the house?—

Bjorn cuts off my fantasy, opening the door and leaning across to unbuckle my seatbelt. His thumb brushes against my nipple and I close my eyes, trying to get myself together.

His dark laughter does nothing to ease the edge of my arousal, but I let him help me down. Bjorn tucks me under his arm, his hand possessively curling around my hip, and I sigh. This is nice, even if I’m horny as fuck.

The new phonefinally finishes setting up and beeps with notifications. It’s a flood of voicemails and text messages that ping and vibrate, one after another.

After we grabbed what we needed at the market, Bjorn made two other stops. One was to replace my busted phone and get him one, and another to a general-type store where he asked me to wait while he gathered what he needed for a project.

After he shifts the Jeep into park in his yard, Bjorn looks at me from the driver’s seat, his brow furrowing. “Everything all right?”

I look at the transcript of the voice messages and wince. Daniel is pissed that I’m not answering. In my text thread, it’s more of the same, with a few from work asking if I’m feeling better. I reply to all but Daniel, saving my ex for last.

“I’ve been out of contact for days. It’s work and Daniel.”

He nods, but it’s a stiff movement. “You’ll let me know if he bothers you.”

“Yeah. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Good, because I’m hoping you can load this.” He reaches into the backseat and grabs the bag from the phone store. “It can function as an e-reader too. For my new TBR?”

My grin takes over my whole face. “You were serious?”

“Yup. Will you set it up while I work on lunch? Maybe after, you can read to me?” He leans over, his thumb brushing my cheek as he pulls me in for a kiss.

I sink into it, into him, the kiss hungry and wild.

My cell phone rings, and Bjorn pulls back, kissing my forehead. “You better get that and check in.”

I sigh but answer. Bjorn carries my stuff inside as I pace the yard. It takes me fifteen minutes to reassure my department chair that I’m fine. I walk her through a modified version of the last few days and assure her I’ve recovered from my dive. We laugh over the mistaken “Viking loot” I found, then I wrap up the call.

My postdoc research grant isn’t for something that I love researching, but Dr. Luz has always been supportive of me. If I decide to leave the university, she’s one of the only ones I might miss.

Next, I dial Daniel, but it goes to voicemail, so I shoot off a text telling him I’m fine and to drop it.

By the time I make it inside the house, Bjorn has already put my things away in the closet and set up a workspace for me at the small wooden table in the corner of the living room.

I find him in the kitchen, working on lunch. He’s all mountain man today, the Beast tucked away. He looks delicious with his unruly beard and golden-streaked hair pulled back from his angular face. His broad shoulders take up all the space in the room, and his rune tattoos are dark against his skin.

“We can get an office set up for you. Will that spot work for now? Tell me what you need, and I’ll get it,” he says without pausing his chopping.

“I don’t need anything special. Most of it is done in the lab, and we don’t know how long we’ll be here.”

He looks over his shoulder at where I’m leaning against the entrance into the kitchen. “I want this to be your home. Ours. At least as a base. We have to move at some point. Time always catches up with me. But until then, I want you comfortable.”

I go to him and trace the rune on his wrist and up along the others up his arm. “All right, I promise I’ll make myself at home.”

His deep voice rumbles, his eyes narrowing on me. “That’s because you are.”

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